Snake Eyes
by Ria202
Summary: Someone can't catch a break....Crossover with BtVS/Angel. Featuring Kevin Nash, nWo, Triple H *UPDATED 8/4/02*
1. Default Chapter

Title:  Snake Eyes (1/?)  
  
Disclaimer:  I own nobody.  The shareholders of WWE, Inc. and Joss Whedon own the rights to anything you recognize in this fic.  To the General Counsels of WWE and Mutant Enemy Productions:  If you so desire, sue me.  It will just give me a chance to sink my teeth into a fun case for a change.       
  
Spoilers: None.  Takes place immediately following the 7/8/02 RAW.  I don't always get a chance to keep up with BtVS/Angel so I will be taking liberties as necessary to fit the story.  
  


Summary:  Someone can't catch a break…..  
  


Notes:  A vague idea for a story popped in my head as I watched the end of tonight's RAW.  Although I'm not a huge Kevin Nash fan, the muse has not let me be for the last 3 hours.  So I figured I'd better do something about it.  Feedback (including constructive criticism) is not only appreciated, but necessary.  It will determine whether I continue this story, so thanks in advance.  

Chapter 1

"Son of a bitch!  I was only in the damn ring for 30 seconds and this happens.  I didn't even have a chance to get my timing back.  Whose brilliant idea was it to have a 10 man tag team match anyway?"

As the doctor poked and prodded, trying to determine the extent of the injury, Kevin winced in pain every time a hand came near his left leg.  His partners in crime were scattered around the room, concern evident on their faces, waiting for the verdict on their friend.  Other harried WWE employees were in and out of the makeshift medical area as they tried to figure out how much and for how long the storylines would have to be altered.  Sean Waltman, better known as X-Pac, cleared his throat and spoke.

"Uh, Kev, you were the one who made the match less than 2 hours ago.  Although if you really want to get technical about it, I suppose it was ultimately Vince's decision.  You were just the mouthpiece."

"Sean, I think that was a rhetorical question," came a wry voice from the door.  Everyone turned to look at the latest individual to join the crowd.  Paul Levesque, Triple H, walked in and made his way to the stretcher where Kevin lay.  Ever since his elbow surgery 2 weeks ago he had been traveling with the company, keeping busy with the behind-the-scenes work he loved just as much as performing in front of an audience.  Home held no appeal for him right now.

"How ya doin' man?"

"I've been better.  I wasn't even supposed to wrestle until this weekend.  The head jackass 'forgot' to tell me until I got here.  Hell, someone had to go back to my hotel room to get my gear.  This is killin' me; I just got my medical clearance a week ago.  All I've wanted is to get back in the ring and now I'm out again."

Kevin ran his fingers through his long blond hair, sighing and muttering unintelligibly.  This was not one of his better years.  Hurt more often than not, he had just come back from 3 months off to rehab his arm after biceps surgery.  He wasn't young anymore.  Recovering from an injury took more time and required more work than it used to.  There were rumblings from some backstage that he was past his prime and should retire from working in the ring.  He heard the gossip.  This was going to be his opportunity to show that he still had it; that "Big Sexy" could still put on one hell of a show.    The writers had finally figured out what to do with the nWo, and the current angle was just heating up.  It was fun again.

"Whaddya think Doc?" asked the Heartbreak Kid, Michael Hickenbottom aka Shawn Michaels, looking at the doc from his position leaning against the wall.

With a sympathetic look on his face, the doctor turned to face his patient.

"Until you have an MRI, we won't know the extent of the damage, but you've done a number on your quad."

"Is it bad enough that I need surgery?" asked Kevin, hoping that he was going to hear some good news for a change.

"Unfortunately, yes.  You won't be able to walk without it.  As soon as we saw you go down out there I called Dr. Andrews in Alabama.  He's expecting you tomorrow morning."

No one noticed the woman slip in to the room.  She couldn't help it.  He was her friend, but more than that, he had saved her from herself.  There was no way she was going to be left in the dark.  

"I'm going to be out for a while again," grimaced Kevin to no one in general.

"I'm afraid so.  Quad injuries are very tricky things.  I'm not going to sugarcoat it.  Look how long Paul was out.  It's going to be at least 7 months before you can even think about getting back into a ring," stated the doctor matter-of-factly.

"NOOOOOOO!" 

Everyone turned to look at the woman half-hidden in the shadows, and she began to cry.

****************

Well, whaddya think?  Do I go on?  


	2. Chapter 2

Title:  Snake Eyes (2/?)  
  


Disclaimer:  I own nobody.  The shareholders of WWE, Inc. and Joss Whedon own the rights to anything you recognize in this fic.  To the General Counsels of WWE and Mutant Enemy Productions:  If you so desire, sue me.  It will just give me a chance to sink my teeth into a fun case for a change.       
  


Spoilers: None.  Takes place immediately following the 7/8/02 RAW.  I don't always get a chance to keep up with BtVS/Angel so I will be taking liberties as necessary to fit the story.  
  


Summary:  Someone can't catch a break…..  
  


Notes:  I apologize for not meeting my publicized timetable for this chapter.  Work intruded on creative writing time…grrr.  The crossover is coming, but I need to lay the proper foundation so bear with me.  Feedback (including constructive criticism) is not only appreciated, but necessary.  It will determine whether I continue this story, so thanks in advance.  

Chapter 2          

The eyes of every last person in the room were on her.  Most wondered at the sudden powerful outburst of emotion, but there were a few who understood that this was more than simple distress over Kevin's injury.  She covered her face with her hands and shook her head, mortified that she let her emotions bubble to the surface.  It wasn't like her, not while she was at work.  She didn't belong in this room, not right now.  Desperately wishing the floor would swallow her whole, she moved to leave before she embarrassed herself further.  As she placed her hand on the doorknob, a voice called to her.

"Don't leave!  You have every right to be here…I need all of my friends right now Sophie.  You just voiced what I was feeling anyway.  It's OK."

"Are you sure Kevin?  I don't want to get in the way," she said wiping at her tear-stained face.

He chuckled.  "In the way?  Never.  Look at it this way, you can get all the information you need for the preliminary press release first-hand.  We gotta keep the wolves at bay," he smirked, rolling his eyes.

Sophie had regained control of herself by this point.  He was right.  There were probably rumors already floating around the internet.  Sometimes it amazed her just how quickly things got out but it made work interesting.  To be honest, she loved it.  Her job as Public Relations Manager for World Wrestling Entertainment was most definitely unpredictable, though it was the good kind of unpredictable.  She sighed.  It was going to be a long night both professionally and personally.   She turned around and walked over to stand next to Paul.  He understood exactly what Kevin was going through better than anyone else.  

Now sitting up, Kevin looked at Sophie, a smile coming to his face.  He could see that she was putting herself back together mentally and it was manifesting itself physically.  The feistiness slowly returned to her eyes and she squared her shoulders, making herself appear taller although she was dwarfed by every man in the room.  He grinned to himself.  What was he thinking? Sophie "tall"?  She was positively tiny.   The painkillers the doctor gave him must be working.  He was starting to feel a little loopy.

Michael, Paul, Sean and the Big Show himself, Paul Wight, looked at Kevin, then at each other and threw out the smiles that set hearts aflutter all over the world.  Michael finally was the one to speak, his eyes crinkling with barely suppressed laughter.

"What's with the goofy grin bro?  I didn't think busting your leg was high on your list of 'top ten things that are amusing'.  Unless of course you like this kinda pain…hmmm?"

"Shut up.  It must be the pain medication kicking in.  It only feels like a thousand hot needles are running through my thigh instead of the million or so earlier," replied Kev, sarcasm dripping from every word.  

Paul opened his mouth to add his two cents, noticing the slight blush that appeared on his friend's face but The Game was interrupted by the doctor, who had just hung up the phone.

"That was Dr. Andrews.  You are scheduled for an MRI tomorrow at 12:30.  Once that's done and he knows the extent of the injury, he'll talk to you about your options for rehab and then you'll be taken in for surgery.  Expect to be in the hospital at least overnight, barring any complications.  There's nothing more I can do for you except to wrap it up.  For tonight, keep it iced to keep the swelling down and under no circumstances are you to even attempt to put any weight on your left leg.  If you're not in a wheelchair then you're in a bed.  This isn't the time to be macho."

The momentary levity seemed to fade a bit with the news.  Kevin grunted his assent, his eyes clouding over as the enormity of the situation bore down upon him once again.  A number of wrestlers from the RAW roster had filtered in throughout the night, wanting to offer their support.  They now noticed the change of mood and decided it would be a good time to take their leave.  With a few claps on the back and many wishes for a quick recovery they left him alone with his best friends.  The only people left in the room were Kevin, the doctor, the nWo, Paul, and Sophie.  

"Guys, can someone get my stuff?  And can someone update Vince and the writers?  Tell him I'll call tomorrow so we can figure out what we're going to do with the angle.  I have a feeling this is going to change everything.  Damn it all to hell, I might have just sent the nWo to the death chamber…."

"Kevin, it's not your fault.  It was a freak accident.  No one could have predicted this.  There's no need to beat yourself up over it," Sophie stated emphatically, grabbing his hand to offer what meager comfort she could.

"She's right.  We'll figure out a way to work around it," agreed Paul.

With that, everyone fell silent, immersed in their own private thoughts.

"It's getting late and you have to catch a flight to Birmingham in the morning.  We need to get back to the hotel.  Sean, you and 'Show go grab his gear.  I'll track down Vince and give him the latest.  Doc, do you want to come with me?" said Michael, taking charge of the situation and diffusing the awkward moment.

The doctor nodded in affirmation.  'Show and Sean left to gather Kevin's belongings, and shortly thereafter Michael and the doctor left to brief the boss.

Sophie was left with the only two people in the world who completely understood what happened to her tonight.

"Kevin, Paul—I'm sorry for getting overemotional earlier.  I thought I was past this, but I guess I'm not.  I spent so long telling myself I didn't need friends anymore, then I came here and you made me realize it wasn't a sign of weakness to care about people again."  Looking at Kevin she continued, "Now you're going to be out for half a year, and who knows when you'll be able to travel.  It's not fair, damn it.  I'm a jinx; everyone around me ends up hurt."

"Sweetie, I just came back from an injury, remember?  And you are not a jinx."

"But that was different.  It was your arm.  You still were part of the show.  You won't be able to do that this time.  Paul couldn't until almost the very end."  She turned away from both of them, not wanting them to see the tears that threatened to spill down her face once more. Taking a deep breath, she spoke again.  "Ah, good grief!  Look at me.  I'm the epitome of selfishness.  You're the one that's hurt and here I am thinking only of myself, babbling on about my issues….."

Paul couldn't take it anymore.  He hadn't seen her like this in ages.  The fire in her was going out.  He looked at Kev, who shrugged his shoulders as if to say "I don't have any idea either."  Something else was going on with her; something neither of them knew about.

"Soph, if I can interrupt your stream of consciousness litany here, I've got something I want to say.  You are definitely not selfish, so get that out of your head.  You also don't have to apologize.  It's been an upsetting evening.  None of us are at our best.  It's OK, you can't always be in control because sooner or later you'll snap," lectured Paul.

She faced him, gave him a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and hugged him.  It was good to have friends who cared.

"Thanks Paulie.  I guess you are 'that damn good'."

She felt his chest rumble as he laughed out loud.

"And don't you forget it, little one.  Now I'm going to pull the car around so we don't have to wheel this big lug four miles across the parking lot."

Kevin grinned again.  He knew exactly where to strike for maximum damage.

"Hey, watch it there asshole.  I'll have you know that just your nose weighs more than I do, so don't be calling me a big lug, Beak."

Paul lunged towards Kevin, but before he could do anything Sophie grabbed his arm.

"Now boys, can't we please play nice?  I really don't want to have to explain any more injuries tonight."

They both flashed the million dollar smiles.  

"Gotcha!" they said in unison.

Sophie just shook her head, laughing.  

"Go get the car Paul.  I'm sure Kevin is exhausted by now."

"Yes, ma'am!  Your wish is my command," chuckled Paul as he left the room.

"Come here Sophie."

She moved closer to the stretcher and before she realized what she was doing, her hand reached out and brushed the hair back off of his face.  She pulled away quickly from the unintended intimacy.  She'd already been too emotional tonight.  Then she realized something.  It was after midnight.

"Happy birthday Kev!"

"What?  Holy shit, you're right.  It is my birthday.  One I'm going to want to forget.  But, if you give me a hug I think I'll be able to suffer through it," he leered.

She leaned over and hugged him, and gave in to impulse once again.  She kissed him, not on the cheek, but very innocently on the lips.  Neither one of them expected the current of electricity that passed between them.  They looked at each other for what seemed to be an eternity, but was actually a few seconds.  He started to say something, but was interrupted by Sean and Michael bounding back in the room.  Their missions were completed and Paul had the car waiting.  It was time to leave.  

Ten minutes later, Kevin was now in the wheelchair, ready to go. Sophie leaned down and hugged him again.

"Will I see you before I leave tomorrow?" he asked.

"I hope so.  I still have to work on the press release tonight and I'm sure there will be a flood of calls tomorrow.  If I finish here within the next hour, I'll stop by your room."  She didn't want to contemplate not seeing him so she didn't bring up the alternative.

Kevin was disappointed but schooled his face not to show it.  Instead he joked with her, as he always did.

"Fair enough.  I've just made your job that much more difficult.  I suppose I'll let you do it," winking at her as Sean pushed him towards the exit.

Sophie tried to laugh, but found she couldn't.  Watching him as he was wheeled to the parking lot she whispered the one thing she could never tell him.

"I think I'm in love with you Kevin Nash."

And she went back to her job.

****************


	3. Chapter 3

Title:  Snake Eyes (3/?)  
  
Disclaimer:  I own nobody.  The shareholders of WWE, Inc. and Joss Whedon own the rights to anything you recognize in this fic.  To the General Counsels of WWE and Mutant Enemy Productions:  If you so desire, sue me.  It will just give me a chance to sink my teeth into a fun case for a change.       
  
Spoilers:  Takes place immediately following the 7/8/02 RAW.  After season 6 for BtVS, except Willow and Tara were just friends and Buffy did indeed die, ergo slightly A/U.  Season 6 took place in 2000 instead of 2002.  I don't always get a chance to keep up with BtVS/Angel so I will be taking liberties as necessary to fit the story.  
  


Summary:  Someone can't catch a break…..  
  


Notes:    I promise WWE will make a small appearance in this chapter. 

Chapter 3          

_Eighteen months earlier (January 2001)_

She was tired…tired of the vamps, tired of the demons, tired of the Hellmouth.  Buffy was gone, Xander and Anya had their own problems, Spike was morose, and Dawn was only now beginning to break down the wall she had erected around herself.  Things were not the same anymore.  It all had gone to hell, er, more to hell.  Never in a million years did she believe she was capable of killing a man, but she had.  Warren deserved to die—he murdered Tara—but she had been out of control.  Willow had allowed the magic to consume her and the result was not pretty.  Only recently did she regain her equilibrium, and she vowed never to use her powers again.  For her own sanity, she had to leave Sunnydale.

_Six months later (July 2001)_

Willow found herself in Washington, DC.  For the past six months she had wandered around the country, supporting herself with whatever jobs she could find, but it was getting old.  She needed to do something other than tending bar or waiting on tables.  There was only one problem:  she didn't have a college degree.  Between saving the world and taking care of her friends, school had fallen by the wayside.  It hadn't seemed necessary at the time.  Now it was different.  No matter how smart she was, that damn piece of sheepskin made the difference between welfare and the American dream, whatever that was.  

So she took matters into her own hands.  Using her considerable talent with computers, Willow created a new life for herself.  Oh, she struggled with the decision (but hey, it wasn't the first time she had broken the law); nevertheless it was better for everyone if Willow Rosenberg ceased to exist.  And Sophie McConnell was born, with all the requisite paperwork from a birth certificate to transcripts to a diploma that declared her the proud owner of a bachelor's degree in public relations and marketing.  Why not?  She constantly had to spin the strange goings-on in the Hellmouth, so anything else should be a piece of cake.

********************

"Ms. McConnell, we're pleased to offer you the position of Assistant Director of Public Relations.  You'll find that the offer letter details the contents of your compensation package.  If you need, take a few days to think about it, but please let us know by the end of the week."

Sophie's eyes widened and she barely held back a shout of delight.

"It worked!" she thought gleefully.  Composing herself, she looked at the HR director.

"There's no need to think about it.  I accept the position."

"Wonderful!  Can you begin tomorrow?  It's the first of the month and a perfect time to start," questioned the director.

She couldn't believe her fortune.  In addition to shedding her previous identity, it appeared she also shed *her* bad luck.  She refused to even think her old name, as if that would make all of the terrible things disappear.

"Of course," Sophie stated, rising from her chair and extending her hand.  "I'm looking forward to the challenge.  DC seems to be the city to be in these days for PR."

The HR director stood as well and the two shook hands, cementing the deal.  Sophie was now the Assistant Director of Public Relations for a small company that specialized in creating politically oriented websites.

It was the closest thing to normal she had ever known.  Though she couldn't stop the nightmares that stalked her in her sleep.

_Six months ago (January 2002)_

She looked around wildly, hoping he hadn't seen her.  Memories that only surfaced in the wee hours of the night suddenly assailed her.  The old pain she buried in the pit of her soul bubbled to the surface.  This was not happening, it couldn't be.  No one knew where she was.  Sophie shut her eyes, and then reopened them.  He was still there.  Quickly, she turned down a side street, keeping him in her sight all the while.

"What in goddess's name is Angel doing in DC?" she fretted to herself in a panic, not even realizing she had reverted to using one of her favorite Wiccan phrases.  "I've got to get out of here."

He was sitting at the window bar of a café in the Adams Morgan neighborhood, nursing a cup of coffee he couldn't drink.  It looked like he was waiting for someone, but she wasn't going to stick around to find out who.  She could only hope she was far enough away that his heightened senses wouldn't detect her.  Now to figure out how to slip away.  Why on earth had she decided to take a walk tonight, in the middle of winter?  Oh yeah, she had nothing better to do.  

"Think, girl.  You have a brain for a reason," she admonished herself.  "At least it's a Friday night.  I should be able to blend in with the crowd."

Seeing a large group of people headed her way, Sophie saw her chance to escape.  Pulling the hood of her coat over her very recognizable red hair, she disappeared into the mass of party-goers….

Ten minutes later she was back at her apartment.  She looked around one last time as she opened the front door.  Seeing no one in the hallway she went inside, shutting the door quietly.  As she leaned against it, the tears began to flow.  She knew what she had to do, but it didn't make it any easier.  

After what seemed like an eternity, she picked up the phone and called her boss.  It was too late to call his home, so she left him a voicemail at work.

"Robert, it's Sophie.  A family emergency has cropped up and I'm going to need to take a few days off work.  Everything I'm working on is on the left hand corner of my desk in file folders.  Lisa's up to speed on everything and she'll be able to cover until I get back.  I'm sorry for the short notice."

She hung up the phone, knowing that in a few days she would have to call back and resign.  They had been good to her; she at least owed them that.

"And I'm even sorrier for the lie."

She created a mental list of what needed to be done, but at least she didn't have to worry about telling her story to anyone else.  Sophie kept mostly to herself.  Ever since she left Sunnydale she refused to let herself get close to anyone, never wanting to experience the pain of losing a friend again.

Twelve hours later, she was on the road headed north.  Her few possessions were packed in the trunk, what she couldn't take was donated to charity, her bank account was closed, and the landlord had her keys and security deposit.  Tears trickled down her face.  She had begun to think that DC could become home; that she could be happy.  Her luck hadn't changed after all.  She was never going to escape the past.

*************

The car broke down outside of Stamford, Connecticut.  A passing motorist stopped to offer assistance and called a tow truck for her, waiting until it showed up.  Two hours later, what little savings she had was gone.  The damn car needed a new transmission, and it would take three days to fix.  Wonderful.  Now she needed a place to stay.  A quick conversation with the mechanic took care of that.

"Your room number is 212.  The elevators are to your right.  Have a pleasant stay.  Oh and here's your complimentary local paper," said the desk clerk, handing her the room key.

"Thank you," responded Sophie, heading towards the elevators.  She just wanted to take a long bath and go to bed.

Walking into the room, she threw the paper and her key on the desk and left her suitcase by the closet.  She flopped back on the bed, her mind racing a mile a minute.  She now had to figure out what she was going to do for money, plus she still had to officially resign from her job.  Well, she couldn't do anything until Monday anyway, so she decided to take advantage of the downtime and decompress.

Monday finally rolled around and Sophie dreaded the conversation she was about to have.  She silently begged forgiveness for the whopper she was preparing to tell.  After three rings, Robert picked up the phone.

"Hi Robert, It's me, Sophie."

"How are you doing?  How's your family? Is everything OK?  Oh, and don't worry about work….between Lisa and myself, we've got things under control."

"I'm OK.  Listen, I wanted to tell you this in person, but I'm not going to be able to.  My father, well, he had a stroke.  I can't leave him like this…."

"Oh damn.  He's going to be fine, right?"

"No, Robert, I don't think so.  The doctor says he's going to need someone with him all the time once he finally recovers and is able to come home.  I hate to do this, but I'm going to have to resign."

"Soph, I'm so sorry.  But can't we convince you to take an indefinite leave of absence?  You're too valuable to lose."

"I don't think that's going to be possible.  I don't want to move him from familiar surroundings; it would be too upsetting for him.  Believe me, this is the last thing I wanted or expected to happen."

"Well you have to do what you have to do, but we are going to miss you.  Oh, and if you need a recommendation or a reference, you got it."

Tears welled up in her eyes.  That seemed to be happening a lot the past few days.

"Thank you so much.  You'll never know just how much I'm going to miss it.  I loved working there.  But so it's official, I'll send you a resignation letter via email."

"What about your personal things?"

"I'll put my forwarding address in the letter.  If you don't mind packing them up, I mean."

"Of course not Soph.  It's the least I can do."

"Well, I need to get going.  Thank you again for everything Robert."

"No problem.  Take care of yourself, you hear?"

"I will….bye."

"Bye."

Gracious, how she detested telling that lie.  Wiping at her face, Sophie's eyes fell on the newspaper lying on the desk.  Newspapers had employment classifieds….might as well begin the search now.  Stamford seemed as good a place as any to stop running, for the time being.

Fifteen minutes later, she was cross-eyed from reading the tiny print and ready to kill the sadist who decided that abbreviations were an acceptable form of writing.  To top it off, she found not a single position for which she was qualified.  Throwing the paper down, she went into the bathroom.  Filling a glass with water, she took two ibuprofen, hoping to get rid of her raging headache.  Walking back to the bed, her eyes fell on three stars at the top of a classified.  Why hadn't she noticed that before?

"Seeking motivated self-starter.  Must be willing to travel extensively.  

Immediate opening for PR Manager.  BA/BS needed.   Email resume to resumesATwwecorp.com or call 555-1234."

 For the first time in days, something resembling a smile crossed Sophie's face.  A spark of hope lit her green eyes.  She reached for the phone and dialed the number……

********************************************************************************

Alright, I'm going to borrow an idea from a fellow author (thanks KarenU).  I need feedback, desperately!  Or else I'll have no motivation to continue this fic and it will stop here.  So pretty please, let me know what you think. 


	4. Chapter 4

Title:  Snake Eyes (4/?)  
  


Disclaimer:  I own nobody.  The shareholders of WWE, Inc. and Joss Whedon own the rights to anything you recognize in this fic.  To the General Counsels of WWE and Mutant Enemy Productions:  If you so desire, sue me.  It will just give me a chance to sink my teeth into a fun case for a change.       
   
Spoilers:  Takes place immediately following the 7/8/02 RAW.  After season 6 for BtVS, except Willow and Tara were just friends and Buffy did indeed die, ergo slightly A/U.  Season 6 took place in 2000 instead of 2002.  I don't always get a chance to keep up with BtVS/Angel so I will be taking liberties as necessary to fit the story.  
  


Summary:  Someone can't catch a break…..  
  


Notes:     Kevin and Willow/Sophie meet for the first time, and the foundation for their friendship is laid.  This chapter is a bit shorter than normal, but I needed to stop here for chapter 5.  

Chapter 4          

_Still January 2002_

Sophie made it through the first two interviews, but there was one more hurdle she had to jump.  One final meeting with Shane McMahon, the presumptive heir to the throne.  Oh, she made it a point to learn about the WWE; it would have been stupid not to, but she couldn't call herself a fan.  Last week was the first time she had even seen an episode of RAW or SmackDown!. Saving the world night after night had meant a sharp reduction in TV viewing time.

"Why am I thinking of that?  Damn Angel for showing up and triggering memories that I want to bury!  I was doing so well too."

Looking at the clock in her hotel room, she jumped.  It was already 9 am and her final interview was in an hour.  It had to go well, because she couldn't afford to stay in the hotel for much longer.  Muttering to herself she headed towards the closet.

"Should I wear the black suit or the blue?  Hmmm, the black…it seems more authoritative."

Giggling at how absurd those words seemed coming out of her mouth, she thought of Buffy and how excited the Slayer would be to see her out of the fuzzy sweaters and long skirts.  Immediately her eyes clouded over.  The pain of her best friend's death was still fresh.  Wasn't it supposed to get better over time?  

**************

Pushing the still-lingering thoughts of Buffy out of her mind, Sophie stepped through the doors of Titan Towers, signed in at the security desk and headed up to Shane McMahon's office.  

"Shane will be ready for you in just a minute," said his executive assistant kindly.  For all of the "feuding" and "fighting" that permeated WWE's product, its employees were essentially one big family.

"Thanks," Sophie replied with just a hint of nervousness.  Just as she was about to sit down, the door to Shane's office opened and he walked out.

"Good morning Ms. McConnell.  Come in."

She followed him in to his office, and as they both settled in she sized up the man that was going to decide her fate.  He was tall, well built, and all in all not bad-looking.  What appealed to her most, though, was the mischievous look around his eyes, and she visibly relaxed.  This wasn't going to be an inquisition.

Shane noticed this and chuckled to himself.  The redhead sitting in front of him certainly had the qualifications on paper, but he wanted to see how that translated in real life.

"So tell me why you think you can do this job?  Working with politicians in DC is about as different from wrestling as you can get."

"Is it really?  Actually I think they're more similar than either camp would like.  If I can deal with the three-ring circus otherwise known as politics, then I can certainly deal with wrestling.  It's much less violent," Sophie replied with barely suppressed humor.

The next half-hour passed quickly in a back and forth conversation that was as much for fun as for anything else.  Shane liked what he saw; this one was going to fit in perfectly.  What she didn't know about wrestling she would pick up quickly.  The job was hers.

They were still chatting as they walked out of his office.  His assistant caught Shane's attention and motioned towards a chair in the reception area; someone was waiting to speak with him.  Before he could acknowledge the other man's presence, Sophie gasped.

"It's you!  You called the tow truck for me, and then waited. But I never got your name, so I had no idea how to get in touch with you to thank you.  And you're here, so now I can find out who you are…"

Shane and Kevin exchanged amused glances, each wondering if she was aware that she was babbling, but deciding it didn't matter.  The little redhead had already made quite a favorable impression on both of them.  

"Well, it looks like you two have already met, but let me take care of the formal introductions," said Shane, a smile working its way across his face.  "Kevin Nash, meet Sophie McConnell, the new Public Relations Manager for World Wrestling Entertainment.  Sophie, this is Kevin 'Big Sexy' Nash.  He's getting ready to return to the WWE ring in the near future.  In fact, the nWo's return will be your first big project."

"The n-w-what?"

Kevin burst out laughing.  That was twice he'd been humbled by this woman.  She hadn't recognized him when he stopped to help her with her car, and just now she failed to recognize the name of one of the most popular stables in wrestling—one that he helped create.

"The New World Order.  We revolutionized the wrestling industry, if I may say so myself.  Although at the time it was with a competing company that has since gone out of business.  Now that our old contracts have expired, Vince is bringing us in as part of the angle with Ric Flair.  We're going to be the 'poison' that destroys the WWE."

Sophie bit her lip to keep from smiling.  He sounded so damn proud of himself.

"Oh, OK.  You might have guessed that I don't know all that much about wrestling.  Well, you're right, but you should have seen me last week.  I knew even less," she cheekily shot back.  "But I do learn quickly, and soon I'll be a walking encyclopedia."

Shane watched this exchange with amusement.  It appeared that two of the newest WWE employees were going to get along just fine.  

"Now that I've revealed my tendency to babble and my utter lack of wrestling knowledge to you, I still want to say thank you for stopping to help when my car broke down.  You didn't have to do it, but it was very kind and I appreciate it."

"No problem.  I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I didn't stop to help a damsel in distress now would I?"

"Kev, the word 'gentleman' is one of the last I'd use to describe you," snorted Shane.  

Kevin turned and skewered him with one of his glares, but Shane had to ruin it by grinning like an idiot.

"At least I don't whine about growing up on the mean streets of Greenwich, CT.  What a hard life Shane O'Mac," he said, rolling his eyes.  "Now amusing as this is, I really don't think Sophie wants to spend her day listening to us insult each other…."

In all honesty she didn't really mind.  It kept her from thinking the depressing thoughts that had been with her since this morning.  Laughing really did make her feel better—something closer to normal.

"No, that's fine.  You two should really take this act on the road, and speaking of the road…I should be going.  Kevin obviously stopped by to talk to you, and I really need to go find some more permanent living arrangements.  Shane, it was a pleasure and I look forward to working with you."

"Likewise Sophie.  If you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

"Thanks, but I'm sure I'll be fine.  And Kevin, one of these days I'd like to take you for lunch or dinner as thanks for helping me out.  It's the least I can do and I won't take no for an answer."

Kevin pondered that for a moment, seemingly lost deep in thought.  Then he flashed that infamous smile.

"How about now?  I'm hungry, and you've got to be hungry…."

"But don't you need to speak to Shane?"

"Yeah, isn't that the reason you stopped by?" piped up Shane, although he didn't really mind.  This was getting more interesting by the minute.

Kevin shrugged his broad shoulders.  Sophie intrigued him, a whole helluva lot more than a discussion with Shane at this point.

"I did, but it can wait.  It wasn't that important anyway.  My stomach on the other hand is, so let's blow this popsicle stand."

She couldn't help it now.  The laughter that had threatened to overtake her earlier now tumbled forth.  Though only one person noticed that it didn't reach her eyes.  He saved that bit of information for later.

"If you're sure, and only if the big bossman says it's OK.  I don't need to be fired the same day I'm hired."

Shane and Kevin looked at each other again, overcome by another bout of guffawing.  Sophie just looked perplexed.  

"What?  What did I say?"

Shane finally stopped laughing long enough to respond.

"Believe me, the Big Bossman has no say in the matter.  It's fine by me though.  Go.  I've got a conference call in five minutes anyway.  Have fun and I'll see the both of you later."

He watched as the two of them walked out the door.  Something was happening, even if he wasn't sure exactly what it was.  Did either one of them realize it?

Kevin, on the other hand, just wanted to know the cause of the pain he glimpsed in the depths of her green eyes.  It was a pain that laughter couldn't even cover.  Regardless, he was going to find out, and he was going to make it better.  

Poor Sophie had no clue what the two men were thinking.  She was still confused by the reaction to her earlier comment.

"Now would you mind explaining to me why you were practically rolling on the floor in hysterics?  I don't think calling Shane the 'big bossman' was that funny."

"I'll tell you about it on the way to lunch.  It looks like your wrestling history lessons are about to begin."

****************

Thanks to all who have given me feedback.  It is definitely appreciated.  Of course, I can always use more, so please let me know what you think.


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